An Arabesque Affair
by BobBQ
Summary: Lawrence of Arabia meets Arabian Nights. Or something. Minimum effort AU smut.


(Author's note: I roughed out the first part of this story several months ago as a birthday present for fellow fan kaguya84, based on a pitch for a longer story. It may get expanded as a collaborative project, but for the moment I'm done with it.)

_An Arabesque Affair_

Canaan can't fight her way out of this one.

Her horse, if it's still alive, is probably miles away, taking all her supplies with it. A Turkish officer stands over her with a big revolver in his hand. She could take him down with her knife if he were alone, but he has six men backing him up and she knows better than to try outrunning a rifle bullet. Major Ponsonby is facedown beside her, uniform jacket stained red with his blood. At her back, one of the dying tommies moans softly.

She scowls in defiance, the cool moonlight painting her features in stark contrast, yet she lets the bare blade fall. It strikes the sand point-down and buries itself deep.

* * *

The Turks must know who she is - one of the best scouts in the Levant, and among the most valuable British spies in this sector - but they're not rushing to find out what she knows. Instead of a lash across her back, it's a sponge she feels. Her nose is full of a cloying perfume. Warm water laps at her hips.

They might be doing this to soften her up before interrogation, or perhaps there's another fate in store: according to Entente intelligence, the pasha hosting the local Ottoman garrison has a passion for collecting exotic slave girls. The girl now washing Canaan's body is one of them, a petite, freckled Asian with hair formed into a loop on each side. The guards outside the bath addressed her as Yunyun. Yunyun works silently, biting her lip in concentration as she scrubs the captive.

* * *

The cords around Canaan's wrists and ankles hold her securely, her naked form spread between the sides of an upright frame. Damp hair clings to the nape of her neck. She still doesn't know whether they mean to torture her - there's an ornate chair facing her across the dimly lit room, but the lush carpet on the floor seems too precious to soil.

A door sweeps open on her right. Yunyun enters, dressed in a silken top and pants so light as to be translucent. She checks Canaan's bonds for signs of looseness or fraying, then adjusts the lamps one by one until the far side of the room is in shadow. The servant departs again without speaking a word. A minute passes, maybe more, before she returns, carrying a goblet and a bottle. She places them on the broad arm of the chair and leaves for a second time.

When she goes out, others come in. The first is a pale, elegant beauty with hair that spills down over her shoulders, her colors as ephemeral as her midriff-baring clothes. The second is shorter and brimming with energy. Drawing on memorized reports from fellow spies, Canaan connects names and descriptions: this pair are called Hakko and Maria. Hakko stands to the right of the binding frame, while Maria crosses to the left side. They wait expectantly for the next arrival.

A different door opens behind the chair, admitting the corpulent personage of the pasha. He lowers himself into the waiting seat and turns his eyes to Canaan. She avoids his gaze, face flushing as those greedy beads run over her helpless form.

Then Yunyun makes her third entrance, holding a small drum. She steps aside at the threshold, making way for another woman. The sight of her takes Canaan's breath away. Even at the first glance, she knows who this is: Alphard, most valuable among the pasha's collection. The slave is nude, her brown skin oiled to give a luscious sheen. Spellbound, Canaan counts the ornaments on her body from top to bottom. Alphard wears a gold ring in each ear and a thin collar around her neck, a symbol of her status. The bands around her wrists and ankles are likewise ceremonial. A pair of tiny stirrups transfix her nipples, their loops connected by a fine chain which sways as she walks. A large ruby of rich pink color glints in the cavity of her navel.

Alphard's presence is a testament to the pasha's wealth, but it's clear that she isn't here merely to look at. An ornate phallus, solid gold studded with polished gemstones, juts from her womanhood. Canaan stares at it in confusion for a few moments before lifting her face. Cold reptilian eyes meet hers halfway for one thrilling instant, then Alphard stands beside the frame and faces her master.

All the girls are silent and still as the pasha inspects them. He raises the goblet to his lips, sets it aside, and makes a sign to Yunyun. She strikes the drum, setting the tempo, and on either side Maria and Hakko begin to dance. Their hips and shoulders sway in time with the beat, fingers tracing intricate patterns in the air, bare feet treading feather-light.

Alphard steps forward at the edge of Canaan's view, pulling her attention away from the dancers. She visually maps the lines of the slave's back, tracing the gentle curves of her spine from the neck down to the round buttocks. Then Alphard moves again, giving a perfect show of her scissoring thighs as she drifts to the right and draws closer to Hakko with a cobra-like motion. Despite her own predicament, Canaan finds herself becoming tense with anticipation as she looks on.

The predator strikes in a heartbeat, flowing liquidly around her prey. Hakko gasps as her arms are pinned to her sides. She writhes in the other woman's embrace, but Canaan isn't fooled: her struggle is no less a performance than the dance was. Alphard catches Hakko's ear between her teeth, biting just tight enough to hold her still as the pretense of resistance ebbs, and slowly turns the clothed slave so that both women face the oblivious Maria. Dark fingers grasp the fabric on either side of Hakko's bust.

Alphard pulls and the garment neatly splits down the middle, letting Hakko's breasts drop and settle into their natural shape. The remainder of the shirt slips down her arms and is cast aside. Her gasps become eager as her soft mounds are kneaded, her posture submissive. Alphard releases her ear and works downwards, purposefully caressing the belly and hips. She tears away Hakko's pants as easily as she did the top half, leaving the delicate female naked in her hands. Canaan notices that Hakko also has a gem in her navel, an emerald with an oval cut.

The pair kneel in unison, Alphard's hands closing around Hakko's wrists. Hakko bends forward until she hangs parallel to the floor, held up by the tension on her arms like a... cantilever? Cantaloupe? Canaan can't remember the word those English officers used. The spectacle of Hakko's bare breasts swinging beneath her body fast drives the question from the young watcher's mind.

Alphard cants her hips forward and arches her back, driving the phallus into Hakko with a slow thrust. She stops only when her counterpart's white bottom is pressed against her dusky lap. Four beats of the drum pass and then she withdraws, her face expressionless. A memory comes to Canaan as she follows the languid thrusts, a dim recollection of gossip heard at headquarters. It was said the pasha is impotent, though only now is she starting to understand what that means.

These thoughts turn her focus back to the one man in the room. Incredibly he seems to be asleep, his head lolling to the side. His goblet has fallen to the floor and stained the carpet under him. Canaan looks to Yunyun and sees by her nervous glances that she too is aware, though she keeps to her role like the others. The drum beats faster and Alphard obeys, hastening the slaves' coupling. Hakko begins to move as well, panting as she receives the jeweled shaft. Her body undulates in tune with Alphard's strong rhythm.

Suddenly Yunyun stops drumming. Alphard lowers her partner to the floor and pulls away, drawing out a glistening, quivering thread. She stands, returning to her former place near Canaan while Hakko sprawls on the carpet. The drumbeat restarts, slow like it was at first, and Maria continues to dance alone. The pasha doesn't stir.

Alphard circles around Canaan's back, there and gone like a passing breath, and reappears on her left side. The prisoner correctly intuits that Maria will be taken next: again Alphard stalks and seizes her target from behind, but this time she strips the girl without foreplay. Soon Maria is on her back, legs wide, mewling as she is mounted from above. Not even their impatient intercourse is enough to wake the master: Canaan understands she will be third to ride Alphard's phallus, and it brings her some small comfort to think the pasha may sleep right through the finale of his show.

Maria's cries peak and subside. The drum is silent once more. Alphard rises, walks to the center and turns to face her pinioned prey. Canaan looks at the warm metal, slick and shiny, and then at the cold face of its wearer. She wonders if it will feel good inside, or whether the other girls were only pretending... Then Alphard reaches down, grips the phallus around its middle and pulls it out. Its bulbous root leaves her body with a wet sucking noise, followed by a rude thump as the dense instrument hits the floor.

Yunyun launches into a new beat, drumming with both hands now. Alphard dances before Canaan, showing a fast and aggressive style all unlike the gentle motions of the other girls. Her lithe form twists and turns, arms and legs moving in broad sweeps, but she never takes her eyes off the prize. The gold bands around her wrists and ankles contrast the tone of her skin, highlights at the outer bounds of motion. The snake has become the charmer.

Alphard extends her arms high above her head and tucks one leg up against her side, calf pressed to thigh. She freezes in this pose, balancing on her other foot without the slightest waver. Canaan is baffled - it almost seems like a challenge. Her eyes gravitate to the raised ankle, tracing muscles and sinews up to the knee and down to the hip. Then she sees the pink petals unfolding in Alphard's spread cleft and hot blood rushes to her face. The serpent's mouth curls ever so faintly: _got you._

The dance resumes. Alphard relaxes her frenetic pace and adds new details to her pattern, flexing sensuously before Canaan's rapt eyes. She starts to time her breaths with the movement of her arms to exaggerate the rise and fall of her breasts. Just as the swinging chain between them claims Canaan's attention, Alphard's rolling pelvis steals it away. Suddenly the slave is motionless again, knees bent and spread, her sex displayed between her taut legs as she perches on tiptoe.

Now Canaan is sure it's no accident. Alphard _wants_ her to look there, to think about that place. She's succeeding, too. The bound girl tries to swallow and realizes her mouth has gone dry. Next thing she knows, Alphard is right in front of her. Canaan stares into those abyssal eyes, begging for mercy without words.

Mercy is not given. Alphard takes what she wants and touches where she pleases. Canaan squirms, pulling at her cords with futile effort as the demanding fingers roam over her. At last those hands caress the inner sides of her thighs, linger a moment, then slide up into Canaan's core. The sensations overwhelm her, blotting out her thoughts until naught but ecstasy is left. She begins to cry out as Maria did, only to have her mouth sealed by Alphard's lips. Canaan bucks in her restraints as her most intimate organs spasm, beyond the reach of her conscious will.

Awareness returns in waves, fuzzy and incoherent. The blurry shape filling her vision resolves into Alphard's smirking face. Canaan feels a weak desire to complain at being made a plaything, but her power of speech hasn't yet recovered. Alphard leans forward and kisses again, nudging her tongue between Canaan's parched lips. In the midst of this, Canaan abruptly feels the cord on her right wrist coming undone.

Alphard's hand closes around her forearm as it slips free, guiding her into resting her weight on the larger woman's shoulder. The other wrist is released in succession, while a different pair of hands work on Canaan's ankles. After a minute Alphard lowers her to the floor and stands back. Looking around dazedly, Canaan sees Maria kneeling at the foot of the binding frame, a sapphire shining in her belly. Yunyun has disappeared from the room.

Canaan can't divine what's meant to happen now, and instinctively looks to Alphard. The snake makes as if to advance a second time, but then a slender white hand darts under her arm and hooks the nipple chain. Hakko flashes a look of jealousy at Canaan as she winds the tiny links around her fingers, pulling Alphard's breasts together. Alphard acquiesces to the demand for attention and lets herself be drawn away.

She lies on the floor and Hakko climbs on top of her, head to toe. Alphard lifts her face, pressing it between her partner's legs as Hakko's hair falls in a shroud over her own nether parts. These developments further amaze Canaan: no breathless tales of debauchery in the harems of the powerful could have prepared her for what she's seen this night.

She tries to move, but her knees buckle before she can even decide where she wants to go. The scout sways, reaching out to brace herself against the frame, but then she feels Maria's steadying hands on her arms. Canaan wants to thank the blond girl, but in her confusion something else comes out: "You smell nice."

Maria giggles, maybe at the compliment or at the blush after it. "What's your name?"

"...Canaan."

"Canaan," the slave repeats. Suddenly she pulls her new friend into a joyful hug. "Canaan, Canaan, Canaan!"

Canaan privately wonders if this is what the old women in the village meant when they whispered amongst themselves of 'simple' children. She's too tired to complain, though, and the innocent exuberance feels good after her ordeal. Maria stays with her all the way as she sinks into a heap on the carpet and sits there, head spinning, until Hakko's sighs crest and diminish.

Yunyun reenters, carrying a set of needle-nose pliers in each hand. "All is prepared," she whispers. "The horses are waiting."

"Excellent," Alphard replies, standing to meet the servant. She takes one pair of pliers and begins pulling the linking pins out of her wrist bands, shedding the precious metal with a subtle disdain. Yunyun does the same for her ankles and then her collar. The chain drops last, falling between Alphard's feet like frayed twine. Only the ruby remains in place, ignored by prying hands. Alphard stretches her back and limbs with a self-satisfied smile, then advances on Canaan and scoops up the smaller girl in her arms. "Let's go," she commands.

Canaan puts her arms around Alphard's neck, perhaps for assurance more than support. "The pasha..?"

"Liang has done for me as she once did for him." The snake smiles again, icily triumphant now. "He must have been dead within a minute of drinking, but we had to be sure."

"You just wanted to play with Canaan," says Maria petulantly.

"I did," Alphard chuckles, making for the exit, "and I have."

Canaan affects a halfhearted scowl. "Where are we going?"

"Home. My people have contacts with your British friends, but we fight the empire on our own terms... Keep quiet now," Alphard warns as Yunyun opens the next door for her. "Liang will distract the guards."

* * *

Three horses gallop over the desert, racing towards the faint glow in the eastern sky. The newest member of Alphard's harem clings to her mistress's back, a Mauser sling chafing her shoulder through her ill-fitting soldier's tunic as the bouncing saddle grinds into her from underneath. Hakko and Maria ride on her left, Yunyun and Liang, the aloof poisoner, at her right. All around her, the sands below reach out to meet the stars above. There's still a war on, a tangle of great powers futilely slugging it out, but that all seems so far away right now. Canaan's old masters won't miss one orphan scout, and she's sure Alphard wouldn't give her up if they did. Somehow, even as another woman's pet, she feels as if some part of her destiny is finally in her own hands.

The sky brightens, and with it Canaan's prospects.


End file.
